Eh (The Curse of Shrugging Shoulders)

Fuck dragons, barbiturates plague my paladins.
Dungeons drill mortal flaw into common sense.
Advocating sunspots, supporting hallucinations
Slipping back and forth; in and out of solipsism.
The walking welcome mats that used to be my guardians
have become stagnant sentries of everything I’m complementing.
They have become nothing more than a moment in dust and
a frail reminder that progress is tough.
Each one bent at the knee,
my comrades have all fallen,
Percocets have claimed more than their fair share today.
We used to play in mud but now you’re all stuck in the muck,
This is no longer a labor of adolescent experience,
But a fresh hell where all we feel is apathy.